


Capture the Flag

by callboxkat



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Capture the Flag, Gen, Tumblr Prompt, Virgil's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:41:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25154872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callboxkat/pseuds/callboxkat
Summary: Based on the prompt, "I'll try to come back before you die," Remus to any other side.Patton decides to put together a game of Capture the Flag, light sides vs. dark sides, for a bit of friendly competition. Not everything goes as planned.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Platonic DLAMPR, platonic Prinxiety, platonic dukeceit
Comments: 5
Kudos: 47





	Capture the Flag

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Virgil muttered. He was sitting on the couch of the Mindscape commons area, Roman at his side. Logan and Patton stood, Logan with his arms folded. On the other side of the room, Janus stood beside the second couch, which the others sat upon. Remus was eating deodorant stick after deodorant stick, looking around at everyone else curiously.

Patton glanced at Virgil with a sympathetically reassuring expression, although Virgil of all sides could recognize the nervousness he was trying to hide. “Of course I’m sure. It’ll be good to have some friendly competition.”

Virgil gave him a doubtful look.

“Anyway.” Patton summoned a podium to the center of the room, where the coffee table had once been, and stepped up onto it. “Here are the rules of the game—“

“Why do you get to make all of the rules?” asked Janus, subtly raising one gloved hand. “Doesn’t that give your team a potential advantage?”

“Because I’m Morality!” Patton replied in a chipper tone. “Rules come with the territory. But how about we agree, if you have any complaints, we can talk about maybe changing some little things before we get going. _And_ , I won’t be playing, so the teams will be even, and the rules will be even less biased! Does that sound good?”

Janus nodded and stepped back to stand with his team: the other “dark sides”, as Roman called them, although Virgil would rather not use that name. He’s once been one of them, after all, and the term’s connotation was undeniably villainesque.

Speaking of Roman, the creative side seemed to also have something to say. “How do we know they’ll follow the rules, anyway?”

“If they do not follow the rules, I would assume their points would no longer count,” Logan said. “Correct?”

“Correct!” said Patton. “So I guess that’s rule number one. You have to follow the rules.”

After that, he began listing off the _real_ rules. Most of them involved basic stuff, having to do with how capture the flag was played. For example, they couldn’t hide the flags in unreasonably difficult to find places, the flags couldn’t be within ten feet of each other, they couldn’t bring back more than one of the flags at once, and if you were caught while bringing a flag back, you had to give the flag back, return to your team's area, and wait ten minutes before trying to go back for the same one.

Other rules were more specific to their situation, as sides, and to certain sides’ tendencies. They couldn’t summon each other during the game, Janus couldn’t make people slam their hands on their mouths as an excuse to make them drop the flag, no one could use a weapon or shapeshift, and they had to walk the whole time—so, for example, if one of them was caught with a flag before crossing the border, they couldn’t simply rise up again where they remembered it being. And no one could steal back a flag that had already made it into the other team’s territory, something that Virgil suspected Janus had definitely been planning on doing had that rule not been explicitly stated.

Patton finished listing off the last few rules, counting them off on his fingers. Janus argued about wording on some of them, but soon enough, they had a list of rules everyone was (mostly) happy with.

Once that was done, all of the sides rose up in the imagination, which had been decorated specially for the day. Remy, a figment of Thomas’s imagination, not a side and therefore at least hypothetically impartial, sat in a tall chair positioned just atop a long, glowing rainbow line that stretched across the imagination, which today took the form of a large field transitioning to forest on either side.

Remy, clearly the judge of the game, took a long, loud sip of tea before leaning forward. “Ready, babes?”

“All set!” Patton replied cheerily.

“Alright, sweet. Patty, your team’s on the left“ —he gestured off in that direction with his tea—“and the rest of you losers get the right.”

“Oh, I’m not playing,” Patton said. “I’m hanging out with you!”

“Sure, doll. As for the rest of you, all your flags are in this chest, riiiight... here.”

A large wooden chest had appeared at his feet, open to reveal three silver flags and three gold flags.

“Dibs on gold!” Remus yelled, clearly to the dismay of his brother.

That was probably exactly why he wanted that color, Virgil figured. To annoy his brother.

Janus handed off two of the golden flags to his teammates, who vanished into the woods to find places for them. Meanwhile, Logan carefully picked up the silver flags, inspecting them more closely than Virgil felt was really warranted for a few imaginary pieces of fabric.

Remy looked at his wrist, where a watch had materialized. “Might want to get to hiding those flags. The game’s beginning in five minutes.”

“Yes, of course,” Logan said. “As silly as this exercise may be.”

“Says the guy whose theme song is called ‘Hilarious Comedy Monologue’!” said Roman.

“I really wish you hadn’t found that out. Nevertheless....” He handed over the flags, one to Roman, and one to Virgil. “We’d best get going. Silly or not, I do not intend to lose.”

“Nor do I,” commented Janus. He winked, stepped over the line into his team’s territory, and walked off into the trees.

…

The first part of the game went well. Surprisingly well, actually. The others had only stolen one of the silver flags, but Virgil’s team had already managed to take two of theirs.

And Virgil was getting very close to where he suspected the final golden flag was hidden.

He was almost at the edge of the playing area. It made sense, hiding the flag here—it meant Virgil’s team had to walk further to get it without being caught, and gave the others more time to catch them on the way back, as well. The trees in this area were coarser, and darker, and the sun barely reached the forest floor. Virgil almost expected spooky atmospheric music to drift through the air.

He hopped over a fallen tree, ducked under some vines, and he saw it.

The golden flag, its two foot pole stuck in the ground, just barely not hidden enough to break the rules where it stood in a clump of undergrowth.

Virgil crouched, looking around for any sides who might have been trying to guard the flag. The area was silent—eerily so, suspiciously so.

He reached down and grabbed a stone from the ground at his feet, leaned back, and threw it. It hit a tree twenty feet in the opposite direction from the flag.

A clump of undergrowth exploded.

Remus, coated in twigs, leaves, and mud and clearly not at all bothered by it, raced out of his hiding place. “GOT YOU!” he shrieked, running towards the tree the rock had hit.

Meanwhile, Virgil darted out of his own hiding place. He snatched the flag, yanking it out of the stubborn ground (which he was sure Remus would have claimed as an accidental obstacle), and raced back the way he had come.

“Hey, no fair!” Remus cried, although he was cackling the whole time. Virgil could hear him crashing through the trees, trying to catch up. “JAN! VIRGEY’S GOT THE FLAG!”

Suddenly, Janus appeared in front of Virgil, and Virgil ducked around him, still running. He could see another shape running through the trees to his left—the remaining side on their team, probably trying to keep him from making a break that way. The joke was on him, though. Virgil knew exactly where the border was: straight ahead.

Still, three on one wasn’t exactly in Virgil’s favor. He was panting, already out of breath.

Janus appeared in front of him again—okay, he was definitely cheating, whether or not Virgil could prove it—and Virgil darted off to the right.

He ran for a while, dodging through trees and trying to lose them, when he spotted something: a crack in the earth.

A hole?

Virgil darted for it, relieved to find it was the perfect size to hide in. He jumped in, snatched a few branches, and dragged them over the top.

He tried to quiet his breath, there in the dark, the rich scent of moist earth overpowering.

A few seconds passed.

“Where’d he go?”

“I don’t know.”

“He can’t have just disappeared—those goody two shoes sides wouldn’t break the rules.”

“We’d know if he made it over the border. He still has to be around somewhere. Let’s split up, find him. Janus, go that way. I’ll go this way. Remus, you stick around here, and back the way we came. He might assume we think he won’t go there again.”

Shoot, Virgil thought, holding his breath. He had been thinking of doubling back and sneaking around them.

“We do know he’s going for the border,” Janus said. “Perhaps we ought to go there. He can’t hide in the open. And that way, once we have the flag back, it’ll be even easier for one of us to head into their side. We can’t just play defense, one flag left or not.”

There was a thoughtful hum. “Okay. You and I will go do that. Remus, you look around here.”

Two sets of footsteps walked away. For a moment, there was silence, and then a loud _thump!_ Virgil nearly jumped out of his skin. Somehow, he managed not to make any noise.

“Ah, this sure would be more fun with you, wouldn’t it?” Remus crooned. Virgil could clearly picture him caressing the morningstar that he doubtlessly held, probably with bits of tree bark pierced on the spikes.

There was a rustle of leaves, and Remus was gone, too.

Virgil counted to twenty, and then slowly pushed away the branches above him.

All three of the others were gone.

“Finally," Virgil muttered. He grunted, dragging himself out of the hole, and reached to pull the flag out. He got to his feet, dusting himself off. A worm fell out of his hair. Gross.

“There you are!”

“ _F*ck_ ,” said Virgil. He spun around, and there was Remus, grinning, his morningstar held in both hands.

Remus let out a battle cry and ran forwards, his weapon vanishing, and Virgil took off. His feet pounded on the earth, the golden flag streaming out behind him as he zigzagged through the trees and jumped over branches and rocks.

He was starting to leave Remus behind, thanks to his quick reflexes and a few stumbles on the part of the darkly creative side, when suddenly, the ground grew sticky. His feet sunk into it, the earth reluctant to let him go. It only got worse, and within seconds, Virgil felt like was dragging his limbs through wet concrete.

“Did you really just turn the ground into _quicksand?_ ” Virgil cried, outraged. He was quickly sinking, already buried nearly to his waist. Clearly, Remus was using cartoon physics in his manipulation of the Imagination. Virgil knew that real quicksand wouldn’t act this fast, or in any likelihood be this deep.

“I sure did!” Remus sing-songed. He loped up along Virgil’s side, leaned over, and snatched the flag away from him.

“Give that back and let me out of here! You’re cheating!

“Now, now, Virgil, I’m just using my natural talents! There’s nothing wrong with that! Besides, think of all the other things I could have done! I could have dropped you in a pit of snakes! Made a minefield of mousetraps and Legos! Or we could have played “the floor is lava”! Or, ooh, have you ever seen _Honey I Shrunk the Kids_?”

“The rules said no weapons!”

“ _Sand_ isn’t a _weapon!_ ”

Virgil glared at him, looking around for anything to grab onto and pull himself out. “I get it, I get it,” he snapped. “You’re very creative. Now let me out!”

“Hmmm, I don’t think I will,” Remus laughed, starting to walk away sassily, waving the flag over his shoulder. “Byyyye! I’ll try to come back before you die!”

“REMUS!!”

…

Virgil wasn’t sure how long he was stuck.

Something about the sand made it impossible to sink out and teleport elsewhere, however hard he tried. Virgil didn’t know how. It probably had something to do with being in the Imagination, and the higher amount of power that certain sides had while they were here. He suspected it was intended as a parting “prank” from Remus.

Thankfully, the rate at which he sank seemed to slow down drastically after Remus disappeared—but by the time he heard footsteps again, coming up from somewhere to his left, Virgil had sunk past his shoulders in the quicksand.

“Hey!” Virgil demanded, struggling harder again. “What the hell!”

“Virgil?”

Relief flooded through him. “ _Roman_.”

The white-and-red clothed figure appeared. “There you are! Logan and I have been looking everywhere! You never came back!”

Virgil did his best to gesture at his current situation with his head. “Yeah, I got held up. Want to help me out of here, Princey?”

“Of course—here.” Roman stepped closer, the quicksand solidifying under his feet, and reached for Virgil. Virgil pulled his arms free, with difficulty, and latched onto Roman, who dragged him out.

Virgil flopped onto the ground—sweet, solid ground—and panted, looking up at the criss-crossing branches. “I really, really hate your brother,” he grunted.

“The feeling is mutual,” Roman said.

Virgil struggled to his feet, and sighed, looking down at his ruined clothes. He shook his arms, trying to dislodge some of the sandy slop that clung to his beloved hoodie.

“Here, let me get that.” Roman snapped his fingers, and the remaining quicksand on his clothes disappeared, as well as the pit of it behind them. “Good?”

“Thanks. Much better.”

“The Dark Sides got another one of our flags,” Roman told him. “Logan’s guarding the last one, so it’s you and me on getting the last flag.”

“Yeah, I almost had it,” Virgil sighed. “But I do know where it is.”

“Oh—If you got caught, don’t you have to walk back to the border first, then, and come back?”

“Who cares? Remus broke the rules first. He was going to let me drown in quicksand! The bets are off. We’re going, now.”

Roman grinned, summoning his sword. “Alright. Let’s do this, then.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think! :)


End file.
